


Welcome to the Chessboard Mr Stilinski

by misfitwolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crime AU, F/M, Inspired by Leverage, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misfitwolves/pseuds/misfitwolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski is a nineteen year old hacker extraordinare, who finds himself recruited into a secret organisation of crime: The Chessboard. Next thing he knows Stiles is partnered with the elusive and mysterious Banshee: a beautiful thieving redhead, with pretty pink lips and a genius mind. With each successful job, Stiles finds himself falling deeper and deeper for his Banshee, but can a wailing woman love? And what has she done to earn her title?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the Chessboard Mr Stilinski

He’d found the card upon arriving home after a particularly rewarding job, his best yet, and when he saw the silver, shimmering card lying on the small table by the door he couldn’t believe his eyes. Somehow, he, Stiles Stilinski, had gotten an invite to ‘The Chessboard’. See Stiles Stilinski was a hyperactive, nineteen (nearly twenty) year old hacker extraordinaire, who specialised in mischievous (criminal) activity, rather ironic, he thought, considering his dad was the sheriff of the town.

Stiles knew he was good at what he did, but ‘The Chessboard’ was in a whole other league: an entire secret network of crime. But that didn’t stop him from dropping his bag and heading as fast as he could to the address on the card.

When he arrived, Stiles was a bundle of nervous energy and it took all his concentration to find the entrance to warehouse type loft where the card had led him. With a deep breath, Stiles pounded on the door, willing himself to stop fidgeting (if they hadn’t had wanted him, they wouldn’t have sent the card right?), as the door slid open, Stiles found himself face to face with his best friend, Scott McCall. The same Scott McCall who was his partner in crime and did the ground work for all his heists. That Scott McCall.

“Dude, have you been on The Chessboard the whole time and not told me?” Stiles whined, outraged that his best friend could have kept something like this from him,  
“No, only got the card tonight, same as you bro.” And smiling pulled Stiles in to a congratulatory hug; this was what they had been dreaming of since their first job. Stiles pulled away with a grin, and felt a pair of eyes on him; he scanned the room, vaguely noticing the people in it, and found who the gaze belonged to: standing in the corner, wearing a leather jacket, and had an eyebrow raised, the most beautiful girl Stiles had ever seen in his whole life; a redhead, with bright green eyes and dark pink lips. Who, had by now realised Stiles had caught her looking, smirked at him before whispering something to her dark-haired friend and, with one last look at Stiles, strutted off through the door, which Stiles assumed led to the balcony behind where she had been standing.

“Stiles, are you listening to me?”  
“Huh?” Stiles’s focus was once again brought back to his friend, although his mind wandered and he wondered about the girl with the strawberry blonde hair.  
“Yeah, I’m totally listening buddy.”  
Scott sighed, “Yeah sure, as I was saying, apparently we have to head up those stairs to meet some guy named Deaton, he’s the boss...or one of them at least.” He said nodding his head towards the metal spiral staircase, in the other corner of the room.  
“Well what are we waiting for?” With a grin, Stiles grabbed Scott and pulled him up the stairs to a small, dimly lit room. Spotting a man in the corner of the room, with his back towards them, Stiles turned to his friend mumbling  
“So I guess that’s our Yoda then?” Seeing the blank, and ever so slightly confused, expression on Scott’s face, Stiles sighed heavily  
“Seriously? You still haven’t watched Star Wars, dude no-“  
Before he could continue his tirade on how he couldn’t physically understand how Scott had managed to go all these years without watching Star Wars, Stiles was interrupted by the figure, who was now facing them, clearing his throat.  
“Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, I’ve heard a lot about you boys.” The man said sitting down at the desk in front of him, “As you may have heard, I am Deaton, head of organisation.”  
“Head of the organisation?” Scott asked with a frown, Deaton shook his head with a small knowing grin, “No, just of organisation, I arrange the jobs, supplies, teams- “  
“Wait so we’re not working together?” Stiles gestured to himself and Scott, again Deaton smiled (Stiles felt that he might grow sick of that grin pretty quickly),

“You will but not all the time, everyone here has a set team or partner that they will work with all the time, this arrangement is decided by me depending on you I believe you will work best with; of course teams are allowed to work together on bigger heists as we see fit.”

“So who are we with?”

“Stiles stop interrupting!” Scott whispered to his friend while not so subtly elbowing him in the side.  
“It’s ok Scott, I was just about to get on to that,” Deaton stood, picking up two files from the desk and handing them over to the two boys, “You, Scott will be alternately working with Allison Argent, known as ‘The Huntress’, and Isaac Lahey, ‘The Beta’.”  
Scott frowned, and before he could stop himself said “But I don’t have a cool codename.” Stiles patted him on the back in sympathy as any good best friend should, but Deaton answered him, “About that, well it has been decided that your ‘codename’, so to speak, shall be ‘The Alpha’.”

“Ok cool bro, you got a nickname, now who am I working with?” Stiles asked, the words flying out of his mouth, once he saw that there was barely any information on his partner, Deaton coughed out a laugh, “Yes, of course, well you will be working with an extraordinarily talented girl, the best of her generation, her name is Lydia Martin, but you probably know her as ‘The Banshee’.”

Stiles felt his mouth open in surprise; of course he knew ‘The Banshee’, he’d seen the name scrawled over sheets of paper all over his father’s desk many times. The very same Banshee who was notorious for stealing from priceless jewels to dangerous secrets, particularly those that could get a rather well known family (Whittemore was the name he had seen on the reports also found on his father’s desk) in some trouble. That Banshee. That would be who he was working with.

“There’s no picture in here, what does she look like? How am I meant to find her?” Stiles frown deepened, from the barely there file in his hands, the girl seemed to be a mystery wrapped in an enigma. Deaton smiled, again infuriating Stiles just a little bit,  
“Oh don’t worry, she’ll find you, in fact I think she already has.”  
By this point Stiles wanted to hit the man a little bit, or at least shake him until he made sense, but before Stiles could question him further, Deaton turned to face the window once more signalling that this meeting had come to a close. With a frustrated sigh, the two boys mumbled their goodbyes and shifted to leave the room, however before they did Deaton turned and spoke, “You’ll find information on your next jobs soon, for the mean time, Mr McCall, Mr Stilinski,” He nodded at them with each name, “Welcome to the Chessboard.”

***

No sooner had they descended the stairs, Scott was pulled away by a pretty brunette, the same dark haired girl Stiles had seen earlier but this time she was without her friend, who introduced herself as Allison and Scott’s new partner. Scott walked off with her dutifully, and with a nod of encouragement to his best friend, Stiles went off in search of his Banshee.

Stiles circled the room for close to an hour and through the process of elimination (and prayer) had decided that his partner had to be the red head that he had noticed earlier. She was the only person missing from the large room, and when he had mentioned the name “Lydia Martin”, people smirked and wished him luck finding her. It was for this reason that Stiles gave up searching and decided to simply let her come to him, as Deaton had said; this was how Stiles found himself walking through the same door that he had seen the elusive girl walk through hours earlier, in the cold air on the large balcony.

Sighing Stiles leant his head against the railing, “It’s like this girl’s a ghost or something.”  
“Hence the name –”  
“Jesus!” Stiles yanked his head up and span round so fast he nearly fell over, and came face to face with the girl he’d been searching for. She raised an eyebrow at his reaction,  
“Nope, just me, Lydia Martin.” She smirked and continued her previous explanation,  
“As I was saying, hence the name ‘Banshee’, I’m like a ghost, well more like a wrathful spirit.”  
Stiles nodded, “Banshee, wailing woman, wrathful spirits yes but they’re a little louder than silent.” Lydia laughed, and it sounded like music to Stiles’ ears,  
“Yes, I guess you’re right about that.” She smiled, with what looked like approval as though Stiles had passed some unknown test of hers,  
“So you’re my new partner, are you?” She said, circling Stiles, as he had circled the room looking for her.  
“Yeah, well according to Deaton I am, I’m Stiles-“  
“Stilinski, I know, you’re a hacker, you’re nineteen, you have ADHD –”  
Stiles frowned confused, “How do you know all that?”  
She smiled coyly, “I’m a thief, information is my business.” Stiles raised his eyebrows, now that he’d seen her up close, he was sure that he’d met her before, “Oh so you get to know all that about me, but I know nothing about you?” It was Lydia’s turn to frown confused. She paused in her pacing of him, and then looking down she smiled slightly, “I’m a genius.”  
“What?” Stiles wasn’t quite sure he had heard her right. She sighed and turned her face towards him slightly, just enough for him to see the slight upturn at the corners of her mouth, “I said I’m a genius.”  
“Like a real proper genius?” Stiles question, Lydia sighed and rolled her eyes in response,  
“Yes like a real proper genius, really Stiles I thought you were quite intelligent yourself.” She said smirking, Stiles scoffed and shrugged,  
“I guess I’m not stupid.” Lydia span to face him fully and raised an eyebrow, “Well I could quote your SAT scores that prove that you’re more than “not stupid”.” Stiles laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’d picked up from his dad years ago. This girl was proving to be a real workout for his attention span; he was trying to maintain this conversation and not look like an idiot, while also acknowledging the fact that he really wanted to kiss her. Stiles wasn’t sure where this had come from, yes Lydia was probably one of the most beautiful girls that he’s ever seen, and yes he was undoubtedly attracted to her, but this didn’t feel like just teenage hormones, if he believed in that sort of thing (which he did he just didn’t admit it), and if he wasn’t so sure that he had met her before, Stiles would say that it was love at first sight.

The pair spent the rest of the night discussing the details of their partnership (after a few close calls, it had been decided that Lydia needed a hacker to help her on her heists, a big step considering she had only ever worked alone); and as the first few rays of dawn shone, Stiles stood, extended a hand to Lydia, which she accepted, and helped her up.  
“I’d better get going, I should be back before my dad gets up.” Stiles didn’t want to leave her but he knew that he should, he would see her soon anyway; they had to come up with some sort of general plan for jobs. As he started to walk away, back inside, Lydia called out, “Welcome to the Chessboard, Mr Stilinski.”  
Stiles grinned, “See, Deaton said nearly the exact same thing to me but it didn’t sound nearly as sexy –” He span round expecting to see her, leaning against the rail as she had been, but was met with nothing but an empty space and the sound of her laugh in the wind.


	2. The World Would Be a Mighty Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not completely sure about how this turned out, sorry if there's any messed up tenses or anything, this one's more angsty than funny, anyway enjoy!

It was nearly a year into their partnership when Stiles found out why Lydia was so aptly named ‘The Banshee’. They’d been living together for a couple of months, it made doing assignments easier, when one night he heard her screaming. All out, gut-wrenching, wailing, that echoed throughout their entire apartment. When he heard it, Stiles ran to her, without thought, without hesitation, he just barrelled down the hallway and through her door, nearly breaking his neck more than once due to the surrounding darkness. He found her curled up on the floor underneath her window; her face lit by the moon, tears streaming down her face like falling stars gracing the earth, heart-breaking whines leaving her throat.

“Lydia?” Stiles tried to get her attention as he entered the room, “Lydia, what’s wrong?”  Gaining no response, Stiles moved closer, “Lydia?” She looked up at him, but her eyes were glassy as though she couldn’t really see him, “My dad…he’s…my dad’s hurt…” Lydia mumbled incoherently before starting to wail again. Stiles didn’t know what to do but he couldn’t leave her like this, he had to get her out of her nightmare. He knelt down beside her; he couldn’t believe that the seemingly fearless Lydia Martin, The Banshee, was the same girl as the one shaking beside him. “Lydia, listen to me, I need you to focus on me Lydia okay?”

“But my dad, he ‘s hurt, there – there was an animal…it was an animal attack…” She looked at him with those wide, haunted green eyes and suddenly everything made sense.

 

 Stiles had met her before; when he was a kid he’d been with his mom at the hospital one night when he saw a girl, around his age, with red hair, and those green eyes, wandering the hallways. Being the naturally curious boy that he was he’d gone up to her, talking away in his usual fashion; the girl didn’t respond much, Stiles remembered, but she’d given him a shy smile once or twice, after he’d held her hand when it looked like she was about to cry. The next thing he knew his dad and all these doctors and nurses came running down the hallway they were in and pulled the strange girl away from him; it wasn’t until he was older that Stiles had found out that the girl had watch her father be attacked by coyotes, and that she was in the hospital to monitor not only her physical condition, but her mental health as well.

It had been years since he had thought about the mystery of the small girl who had survived the attack, but now it was clear, Stiles may not have recognised her before but he was sure of it now, Lydia was that little girl.

 

Not able to think of anything else to do, Stiles tried to help her the way he had seemed to all those years ago, “I know you don’t I Lydia? You’re the girl from the hospital, do you remember me?” Lydia blinked at him, a dull spark of recognition appearing in her eyes, “That boy…Stiles?” He smiled and nodded, “Yeah that was me, funny how fate works sometimes huh.” Instead of the smile he’d hoped for, Lydia frowned at him, blinking harder as if trying to shake something from her, “Stiles? What? Where – Stiles?” she asked frantically, “Shhhh it’s fine, you had a nightmare, I’m here, we’re at home.” Stiles pulled her closer, trying to ignore the stuttering of his heart at being so close to the girl he’d fallen for since their first meeting back at the loft months ago. They sat there for a while, Stiles rocking Lydia back and forth until she hummed contentedly and yawned. Seeing this, Stiles picked her up and lay her on her bed, as he went to leave Lydia grabbed his wrist, “Stay? Please?” She looked up at him, her eyes silently pleading and desperate. Stiles nodded and climbed into her bed, his response met by a small smile from Lydia, before she pulled his hesitant arms around her and curled into him.

 

That was how it went on for months; he’d come running every time he heard her scream, calm her down and they’d sleep together (not in _that_ way). Stiles was sure now; he was in love with Lydia Martin, and he thinks that there just might be a possibility that she feels the same way about him too. But then of course everything goes horribly wrong. They’ve just come back from a job and Stiles hopes that the rush she gets from a successful job will be enough to allow him to ask about her past without her going all ice queen on him and shutting him out. Lydia’s sitting at their kitchen counter laughing at something idiotic that he’s said, when he asks her,

“What happened to your dad?” Stiles knows what happened, of course, but he has to hear it from her, she has to be able to trust him enough to tell him. Lydia’s laughter stops and her shoulders tense, “You know what happened.” Stiles sighs, he knows that this isn’t going to be as easy as he hoped it might be, but then things never were with Lydia, that was part of her charm. He tries again, “Lydia what happened?”

“You seriously expect me to believe that the Sheriffs’ son, who is too damn curious for his own good, doesn’t know what happened?” She scoffed derisively. Oh this was not going to be fun, but he couldn’t stop now so he tries a different approach.

“Fine, then what are your nightmares about then?” Lydia laughs in response and looks at him like he’s an idiot; he just raises his eyebrows in response. She huffs, rolling her eyes but shaking her head, she starts to talk,

“They’re always the same, always about the moment my dad was attacked, and the blood, that plays a big part, I’m always choking, drowning in the amount of blood, that’s why I scream, I think – I think it’s the only noise I can make, the only thing I can do to keep breathing, I just, I used to think that it was all my fault, that I killed him, I was the one who wanted to go into the woods, I was the one who ran off and got lost, I was the reason – I – ” She’s starting to breathe quite rapidly now, and Stiles certainly knows from experience what a panic attack looks like. “Shit,” He exhales as Lydia’s suddenly slipping off the stool she was perched on, on to the ground. Stiles grabs her shoulders, slowing her descent, and crouches next to her: their positions similar to that of the first night he heard her screaming.

“Lydia, it’s okay, you’re awake, you’re with me,” He tries to comfort her, tries to bring her back from the world in her head; Stiles doesn’t know what to do, not really, he’s the one who’s meant to be all flailing limbs and anxiety in their partnership, Lydia’s the one who’s brave and calm in a crisis.

Lydia’s still not breathing right and Stiles goes through every method he’s ever tried to stop a panic attack: thinking of something else (tried that, not working), slowing her breathing (easier said than done), holding her breath – that – that might work. Knowing that he couldn’t just tell her to hold her breath, and having absolutely no thoughts of his own self preservation, he just needed her to keep breathing, he did what he thought might shock her enough into holding her breath: he kissed her. He feels her hold her breath, and then after a short moment, he’s sure he feels her kiss him back before they pull away from each other.

“Why did you do that?” She asks him, her eyes wide and ever so slightly vulnerable, and Stiles is a little shocked, if he’s being honest that the genius Lydia Martin can’t guess why (or maybe she has theories of her own behind his reasoning and wants to see if she’s right).

“I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack?” He frowns slightly, unsure as to why he’s posed it as a question, so he continues, “Well at least it works for me and, well I guess you as well – ”

“You’re rambling,” Lydia interrupts, a slight smile on her lips, “And that was really smart,” Stiles gives a short laugh and leans against the wall, “If I was really smart, I’d recommend some therapy sessions, but who am I kidding we both know that those don’t actually help…” Stiles hears himself trail off as he becomes distracted by the fact that Lydia has now taken his hand in her smaller one.

“Thanks, not for just now but for everything.” She says looking at the floor and biting her lip. It’s that action that causes him to do what he does without thinking: causes him to move his other hand to her cheek, tilt her head up till her eyes met his and say,

“Well it helps that I’m in love with you.”

He isn’t quite sure what reaction he’s expecting but Lydia dropping his hand like it was on fire and scrambling back from him hadn’t really crossed his mind (nothing had really).

“No. No, you can’t be in love with me.” She’s standing now, and shaking her head furiously. Stiles frowns, “What? What do you mean I can’t be in love with you?”

“Stop! Stop saying it! You can’t okay? You just can’t!” Lydia sounds desperate, frantic as she backs away from him.

“Lydia it’s not like I can help it – ”

“I’m not in love with you, I feel nothing for you.” He isn’t sure what stops him: what she’s actually saying or the cold cruelty in her voice. Lydia can’t be saying that, she can’t be. Stiles runs through all their interactions from the moment they met to now; he’s sure that she feels something for him, that he isn’t being delusional, their kiss hadn’t been the only ‘moment’ between them, of that he’s sure; in fact the two had almost kissed many times, in moments of celebration, the nights they spent together when she needed comfort, even a few days before they’d nearly kissed in the rain when Lydia had tripped and fallen against him in her haste to get inside. But the icy look she’s giving him is piercing his heart, and he feels the hated burn of tears rising in his eyes.

“I think I’m gonna do some jobs on my own for a while.”

No. She’s not going to do this. He’s not going to let her push him away because he stupidly admitted that he’d fallen in love with her.

“Lydia please, don’t do this, please, I shouldn’t have – I was being stupid – ” He tries to change her mind but his words aren’t coming out right, and she’s already fleeing to her room.

The next thing he knows he’s sitting on the floor, there’s a slight dent in the wall and a dull ache in his right hand as he bows his head with wet eyelashes.

 

Months pass in their silence. True to her word, Lydia takes jobs alone and Stiles works with Scott’s team, the two barely seeing each other in their apartment; Stiles can’t stand it. He’s angry at her, at himself, at the entire stupid situation, and in his anger he finds Malia. Another thief on The Chessboard, dubbed ‘The Coyote’, and the daughter of Peter Hale (Head of general jackass-ery at The Chessboard, or something like that), she’s pretty, and he finds solace in the fact that she’s simple, it’s seems easy between them, and he decides to try and get over Lydia. So he does a job with her, a high-level one, one that only Lydia was really allowed to do (but he ignores this), ignoring Deaton’s not-so-silent and subtle disagreements and begrudging allowance of the partnership. Ignoring the questioning looks of Allison and Scott, and even Isaac…and Derek, and Cora, and Boyd, and Erica; hell ignoring everyone looking at Stiles and Malia as if it was wrong to see him working with anyone but Lydia. Needless to say the job goes wrong. It goes horrifically, catastrophically, monumentally wrong.

 

*

 

“I’m going on a job.”

Lydia looks up at Stiles at the door from her seat on the couch, she thinks that it’s probably the first thing he’s said to her in months. At her silence he continues, “It’s with Malia? You know, The Coyote?” Lydia hums non-committedly and turns back to her book, trying to keep the words on the page from swimming as she hears him slam the front door. Lydia sighs and in an expression of rage that she’s not particularly proud of, throws her book at the wall with a scream. Lydia could try and pretend that she didn’t feel anything for Stiles but even she couldn’t kid herself anymore, she wasn’t even sure if she ever had; and because of her stubbornness, and downright blind stupidity and fear she was going to lose one of the best things that had happened to her. To a freaking coyote. It wasn’t that Lydia hated Malia, honestly she didn’t, what she didn’t like about the girl was her obvious liking of Stiles, her Stiles – _her_ Stiles? Yeah right, he could have been Lydia’s if she had just told him that she loved him back, but no she had to freak out and remember the fact that seemingly everyone she loved died. An irrational, but evidence based fact; but she’d loved Stiles for months and nothing had happened to him…but maybe as soon as she told him karma would catch up and rip him away from her…and that, a world without Stiles…Lydia couldn’t deal with that. She could face him hating her but having to live without him…well she was sure how she would be able to. If she was honest she wasn’t even sure when the boy had become such a huge part of her life, of her…now he was off gallivanting around Beacon Hills with another girl, while she lay on the couch trying not to cry…and failing.

 

She wasn’t sure when she’d drifted off to sleep, but her phone ringing loudly on the table beside her woke her up. Groggily noticing that the caller was Allison, Lydia answered the phone,

“Hello?” 

_“Lydia?”_

“The one and only.” Lydia sarcastically replied, holding back a yawn,

 _“Lydia, there’s something I need to tell you,”_ Lydia rolled her eyes at her friend, yes she loved the girl but Allison really needed to get to the point,

“Yes I gathered that Allison, use your words.”

 _“It’s Stiles – ”_ Lydia was paying attention now, “What about Stiles?” Lydia felt her stomach drop at her friend’s hesitation, something was wrong; she just knew it, “Allison, what’s wrong with Stiles?”

_“Him and Malia, they had a close call –”_

“Police?” Lydia can practically hear Allison shake her head, and her heart clenches when she hears the other girl draw in a shaky breath,

 _“No Lydia, Stiles, he’s been shot.”_ She can’t believe it, she doesn’t want to believe it, “What?”

_“We’re at the hospital, I don’t know how bad it is, he’s in surgery…”_

Allison’s words fade as Lydia stops hearing them and drops the phone. He can’t die, he can’t, her body reacts to the possibility before she even knows what she’s doing, uncontrollable tears streaming down her face and she’s screaming.

She screams as though the world was burning; because her's was.


	3. To sleep, perchance to dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite happy with this one, it's the final chapter so enjoy!

Lydia bursts through the hospital doors, a blur of colour and barely contained rage. She spots Allison first, her head bent towards Scott in murmured conversation, and heads towards them, hair flying behind her.

“What happened?” The question is directed towards the couple in front of her, but it’s a voice from her left that starts to answer, “Well – ” Lydia whips her head round to the source: Malia Hale (or should that be Tate, either way Lydia doesn’t care, the idiotic girl was the reason that Stiles was in the hospital.)

“No, you sweetheart, you don’t get to talk right now. Allison, what happened?” Allison frowns nervously, even she, her best friend, is slightly scared of an angry Lydia Martin.

“Really Malia is probably the better person to explain.” Lydia purses her lips but nods sharply anyway, “Fine, talk.” She says pointing at Malia, who barely stops herself from flinching at the tone. “Okay well a couple of weeks ago Stiles and I got drunk, one thing led to another, and we kind of slept together – ”

“I didn’t ask for your sexual history, I asked what happened.” Lydia interrupts through gritted teeth, hardly able to restrain herself from attacking the girl. Malia blinks, flustered, but starts again, “Sorry just that was the reason we decided to try being partners, well it was a higher level job – ”

“Meaning you didn’t have clearance for it and were just being cocky, carry on.” Lydia snaps at the girl.

“We did. Anyway we’d barely got inside when we were attacked by Hunters,” Allison takes a sharp intake of breath at this as a former member of the group herself.

“Stiles told me to get out, so I did, next thing I know there’s gunshots and he’s bleeding out – “

“Where?”

Malia frowns, “What?” Lydia sighs in frustration, “Where was he shot?”

“Urm stomach I think, I panicked, I didn’t know what to do so I called Scott.” Lydia sighs and runs her fingers through her hair in agitation; a habit she’s picked up from Stiles.

“So you were useless, okay you need to leave.”

“What? No, not until I know Stiles is –”

Lydia whips round to face her, “Okay I’m _this_ close from ripping your throat out, so you need to get out.” Malia goes to interrupt but Lydia stops her,

“GET OUT!”

Her enraged scream echoes through the room, causing the other girl to scramble out of the hospital, and silences the waiting room. Scott ducks his head in apology to the others in the barely filled room, while Lydia drops in the seat next to Allison.

“Lydia, are you okay?” He asks her in a soft voice,

“I just really fucking hate coyotes. And hospitals.” Her voice breaks halfway through the reply, and Allison knows that she needs to talk to her best friend in private (and what says privacy better than a hospital waiting room?), so she nudges Scott, nodding her head in a silent signal to tell him to give them some space and he complies.

“Lydia what’s wrong?” Allison asks, hoping that with the knowledge that it’s just the two of them (because she knows that Lydia will have sensed that Scott has left) that she’ll open up,

“Everyone I love dies.”

This throws Allison for a moment, “What? Lydia what are you talking about?” The aforementioned girl looks up at Allison through a curtain of red hair, “Everyone I love dies: my family, my friends – ”

“But your mom’s fine, and I’m fine, and –”

“I barely saw mom after the attack, she shipped me off to boarding school, I think the distance increased her life span, and you, you must just be a special case, or my curse just hasn’t kicked in yet.” She says bitterly,

“Lydia not everyone you love dies, you don’t have control over that.” Allison tries to reason with the girl but she’s not listening anymore, drifting off into her own little world, “That’s why I pushed him away you know? I didn’t want him to get hurt, I figured if he didn’t love me anymore then I would get to keep him.” Lydia breaks off and looks down tears filling her eyes, rage giving way to anguish.

“You know one of the last things I said to him properly was that I didn’t feel anything for him?” Allison sighs and gently takes her friend’s hand, prompting her to continue. “I lied.” Lydia says with a shrug and a bittersweet smile, “I love him so much, too much. I was so scared that I was going to lose one of the best things that had ever happened to me, because I loved him; and he ended up here anyway, so the last couple of months were for nothing.” Lydia’s tears are flowing freely now, “I thought that as long as he was alive, I’d be fine with him hating me, just as long as he was there; I could watch him give those smiles and laughs to someone else, just as long as he was happy and breathing. But now he might die, and he might die thinking that I hate him, but I don’t Allison, and I don’t know what to do, I don’t –” Lydia breaks off, her words dissolving into choked sobs as Allison pulls her into a fierce hug, after quickly wiping her own tears away.

“He’s not going to die, okay Lydia? And as soon as he wakes up you are going to march into that room and you are going to tell him that you are an idiot, and that you love him, okay? That is what is going to happen.”

 

 A little while after Lydia’s tears have dried, leaving her curled up on her seat staring at the wall opposite her, Scott wanders back over to the girls. He looks to Allison first, silently asking whether Lydia’s okay; Allison gives a half-shrug in response: she will be. He nods with a sigh and slumps down in the seat next to her. It’s some time after that a doctor comes over to them, “Scott don’t worry, your mom’s with him, you two girls here for Stiles too?” They nod so she continues, “I’m Dr Morrell –”

“Wait Deaton’s sister?” Allison interrupts, Morrell gives a slight smile and nods before continuing, “Well it was a close call, abdominal trauma, especially from a gunshot wound is risky, but he’ll be fine,” At this Allison nudges Lydia in a way that screams ‘I told you so’. Dr Morrell smiles at them, “Well he’s not conscious right now, and I’m afraid it’s only immediate family that will be able to visit so Scott you can go ahead but I’m afraid –”

“I’m his fiancée.” The words of the lie are out of Lydia’s mouth before she even knows what she’s saying, her grandmother’s sparkling ring slipped onto her ring finger and presented to the doctor. “Well then,” Morrell looks to Scott as though for confirmation, he only nods with a slight smile, she nods and smiles back, “Miss Martin you may join him, Miss Argent is there anything you would like to share?” Lydia’s eyes widen slightly at the fact that Dr Morrell clearly knows who she is, and by extension probably knows that she isn’t engaged, but is willing to overlook this. “I’m engaged to Scott? That counts as immediate family right? Fiancée of the brother?” Dr Morrell gives a slight laugh and nods, “Sure that counts, if you’d like to follow me.” The walk to Stiles’ room is quiet until, “So fiancée huh?” Neither girl knows just whom Scott is referring to so both answer, “Shut up Scott.” Though Allison does turn to Lydia and ask, “Nice ring, where’d you get it?” Lydia rolls her eyes, “I didn’t steal it if that’s what you’re thinking, and you know for criminals you two have very strong morals. It was my grandmothers.” Both Scott and Allison nod and then the walk is quiet once more.

“So you’re really his brother?” Lydia asks quietly, Scott gives her a small smile, “Yeah my mom married his dad when we were in senior year, and we just kept the same names.” She nods, “That must be nice, having a real family.” Scott looks as though he’s about to ask her what she means by a ‘real family’ but Allison deters him with a shake of her head, and they arrive at Stiles’ room in silence.

 

They’ve been waiting in his room for a little while before Stiles starts to stir. Scott is by his side in an instant, Allison right behind him, and while Lydia wants to join them, she’s hesitant and stands by the door nervously.

“Scott?” Stiles asks voice quiet from disuse and sleep, “Yeah I’m here Stiles.” Scott assures him, Stiles frowns, “Malia – where’s Malia? – ” Lydia doesn’t hear the rest of his sentence because she’s out the door before she even knows what she’s doing.

 

“Malia – where’s Malia? Is she okay?”

“Yeah she’s fine.” Scott tells him, Stiles sighs in relief, “Good, someone in that Hale family would have killed me if anything happened to her.” He blinks and shuffles a bit, before he asks another question, “Did you tell Lydia?” Scott frowns, “Yeah, she was right here –”

“Shit.” It’s Allison that realises Lydia’s gone, “I’ll try and find her.” She says to the two boys before running out the room, but when she sees the empty hallways, not a flash of strawberry blonde hair in sight, she knows it’s a lost cause: Lydia’s very good at not being found.

 

“She’s gone.” Allison says re-entering the hospital room, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “What? What happened, she was right there?” Scott asks, confusion evident on his face, “She’s an idiot that’s what happened. She must have bolted when he mentioned Malia.” Allison half answers, half mumbles to herself, “What’s going on? What’s wrong with Lydia?” Stiles asks. Allison gives a bittersweet smile and shakes her head, even when the boy’s lying in a hospital bed he’s more worried about her best friend; “Nothing Stiles, you get some rest, I’ll try and figure where she could be.” 

*

Lydia visits Stiles while he sleeps; she knows it’s creepy but she can’t bear to think about the conversation that they will inevitably have if she sees him when he’s awake. So she visits while he sleeps, Dr Morrell and Nurse McCall letting her in smiling softly when they see the jewelled ring that she still places on her left ring finger even though she knows that she needn’t bother. Sometimes she’ll hold his hand, just like he does ( _did_ ) when she’s having a nightmare, other times she’ll quietly whisper that she loves him, and that she’s sorry, she’s so sorry for everything, praying that his sedation is strong enough so he won’t hear her. And when Stiles gets out of hospital, she avoids him. Allison calls her an idiot daily, telling her that Stiles asks about her all the time, that nothing is going on between him and Malia, that she can tell that he still loves Lydia; but she doesn’t take any notice not really. Well yes she does threaten Malia if she even comes close to her, but that doesn’t mean anything the girl got on her nerves anyway, she’s not jealous. Lydia Martin does not do an emotion as petty as jealousy, she’s accepted the fact that Stiles has moved on and she’s fine with that. (She’s not.)

 

“You need to talk to your partner.”

“What?” Stiles is baffled by Malia’s sudden statement, “I said you need to talk to your partner, you need to talk to Lydia.” Stiles raises his eyebrows, “Well I doubt you could even call us partners anymore, anyway why?” Malia scoffs, “Because she’s crazy.” Stiles fists are suddenly clenched by his sides, and mutters through gritted teeth, “She’s not crazy.” Malia scoffs again and rolls her eyes, “Uh I think she is.”

“She’s not crazy Malia, don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” While she’s a bit taken aback by what he’s said, Malia continues, “What I don’t understand that she’s clearly jealous and a nutjob?” Stiles puts down the computer chip he’s holding, only slightly registering that he might damage it, “Lydia isn’t jealous and she isn’t crazy so just drop it Malia.” His icy tone stuns Malia a little but doesn’t stop her, “Just talk to her okay? You’re clearly still in love with her, and she clearly has feelings for you, so just tell her to stop threatening me at least, I preferred it when she just ignored me.” She huffs, and storms off leaving Stiles alone in the corner of the loft.

 

Stiles has realised by now that Lydia’s avoiding him; she leaves their apartment before he’s up and has a chance to stop her, and she comes back late at night. But he can still hear her, every night without fail Stiles can hear her screaming and it takes every ounce of will in his body to stop himself from going to her, because what if it’s not what she wants? Every move Stiles makes to do with Lydia is now clouded in doubt, but after what Malia says to him (and Allison, and Scott, and Isaac, and even Derek) Stiles decides to make a move; he’s going to talk to Lydia. So he waits for her, sitting on the couch until she walks through the door at 3 am.

“Lydia we need to talk.”

She jumps at the sound of his voice (if this were a different situation he’d be proud that he managed to surprise _her_ ,the Banshee), “Stiles?” She asks, her voice barely a whisper, because she knows that it’s him and she isn’t sure whether she’s happy about it or not.

“Yeah, we need to talk.” He stands and walks towards her, noticing how she seems to be forcing herself to move back, away from him. She nods as though prompting him to continue, “Lydia, are we even partners anymore?” Lydia scoffs and looks down, “I don’t know, I thought you were with Malia now.” Stiles sighs and runs a hand through his hair, this was not going to be an easy talk.

“No, Lydia we’re a team, or we were at least, and a really good team, but then I stupidly told you that I was in love with you and – ”

“Please don’t take it back.” Her voice is quiet and she sounds broken, “Please don’t take it back I don’t think I could handle it.”

“What? Lydia what are you talking about, I’m not going to take it back,” Stiles moves towards her, taking her hands in his, but she’s not listening, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said that night, I lied,” She pauses finally looking him in the eyes, his steady golden brown taking in her watery emerald green, “I love you.” She whispers it but he hears.

“You love me?” He asks unable to quite believe what she’s saying. She nods “I do. I do love you Stiles. I really, really love you, and I just wanted to keep you safe, so I lied. I thought that if you didn’t love me anymore then you’d stay alive, and I thought you’d be happy and alive with Malia, and I’d be fine because you were.” Tears are falling from Lydia’s eyes, and Stiles wipes them away before she can catch them. “Well everything Allison said now makes a lot more sense,” He rests his hand against her cheek, softly stroking it, “You know for a genius that’s some pretty messed up logic Lydia.” She looks up at him innocently, her eyes wide and her lips parted, “So you don’t hate me?” Stiles smiles and shake his head, “No I don’t, I'm in love with you Lydia.” He rests his forehead against hers, smiling slightly at the fact that she hasn't run away again, “Why do you stay out so late Lydia?” She closes her eyes before she answers, “If I don’t sleep, then I don’t dream, and I don’t have to wake up alone.”

“You don’t have to wake up alone anymore Lydia.” His eyes close as his lips brush against hers, and he can feel the sigh of relief she breathes as she pulls him closer, hands clutching at him desperately. Their kisses deepen as they stumble through the apartment, both hungry for the other that they’d been starved of, and fall into her bedroom.

Lydia doesn’t have nightmares that night, and true to Stiles' word, she doesn’t wake up alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is the final chapter! I might continue it, or maybe write some oneshots connected to the story? Depends if people are interested, so please leave comment/kudos etc. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading! Comment/bookmark/leave kudos if you want, I love hearing feedback!


End file.
